


Too Little, Too Much

by Syrinx



Series: Gravity [2]
Category: Thoroughbred
Genre: Gen, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-09
Updated: 2008-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrinx/pseuds/Syrinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the ending of an era.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Little, Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Foundations. Spoilers through Wonder's Victory.

Number 1: Came Calling

It was hot and unbearably humid in Kentucky during the summer, and the first week of July was only a taste of the heat yet to come. Morning works at Townsend Acres were drawing to a close, and the sun was already high on the horizon. Ashleigh Griffen felt a hot trail of sweat trickle down the side of her face, accentuating how miserably hot and dirty she felt. Wiping away the dampness on her face, Ashleigh gave the excited chestnut colt beneath her a pat on the neck and waited for instructions.

“Let’s get in a good two mile jog,” Charlie Burke told her from the rail. “I don’t want the colt to get too ahead of himself today, so Sam will have him on a line with Dominator. Get them both warmed up over one lap and then do the next two nice and collected. No playing and no speed; just jog ‘em.”

Ashleigh nodded her understanding, then flicked her eyes quickly to curiously give the two men next to Charlie a once over. Brad Townsend stood close to the rail, arms authoritatively crossed over his chest and dark eyes pinned to the chestnut beneath Ashleigh. Next to him stood Stewart Hollowell, a well-known English horse owner. Over the past ten years he had won the Epsom Derby three times, as well as several other extremely prestigious races in England. He was a hot name in English racing, and his presence unnerved Ashleigh to no end.

“All right,” Ashleigh nodded to Samantha, whom turned the big bay gelding and trotted out next to her. Wonder’s Pride extended into a canter halfway around the track, his copper mane rising and falling to his rhythm.

“What do you think about Hollowell?” Samantha asked finally, not able to contain her curiosity.

“My bet is he’s another Myron Yeakel,” Ashleigh replied, referring to the New York-based owner that had been interested in buying Pride from Townsend Acres earlier in the year.

“But I thought Mr. Townsend wasn’t going to sell,” Samantha said, keeping Dominator close to Pride, whom was tethered to the gelding with a lead line.

“So did I,” Ashleigh responded grimly, letting Pride launch into a slow gallop. Samantha cued Dominator as well, keeping him anchored to the rail with Pride tugging on the line. Ashleigh was already standing in the stirrups, using her whole body to keep the chestnut in check. As they had progressed with Pride’s training it had become increasingly clear that the colt needed a firm hand during works. Jogs were especially difficult on riders, as the colt liked to haul his head down and into the bridle in an attempt to move faster.

Ashleigh could feel her arms begin to ache, but she had to smile a little at Pride’s eagerness. He was large and fit for his age, using all his power to pour on the speed. Thankfully Samantha was there with Dominator, continually reeling the chestnut in.

The pair galloped through two laps of the training oval, coming to a sweaty stop in front of Charlie. The older man only nodded and gave them a gruff comment of approval. Brad and Stewart Hollowell were discussing something further off, beyond earshot. Ashleigh rode Pride off the track and leapt out of the saddle, pulling the helmet off her head and running a hand through her sweaty dark hair.

“Do you know what that’s all about?” she asked Charlie as the two men walked off to the training complex.

“Looks like we have another buyer,” Charlie replied, taking off his felt hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“What do you mean another buyer?” Samantha asked as she jumped off of Dominator. “Mr. Townsend said that his deals had gone through. There’s no reason to sell anymore.”

“There wasn’t then,” Charlie said bluntly. “Seems like young Townsend has different ideas. Times are still tight around here, and the past few months haven’t been too kind to the farm. Rumor has it that a few banks have come calling.”

Ashleigh frowned as they led the horses back up the main training barn, silent in thought as Samantha kept coming up with questions.

“Don’t lose your head about it, missy,” Charlie finally said as they walked into the dim light of the barn. It was a momentary break from the humidity. Charlie pushed his hat back on his head and frowned in the direction of the barn office. “The colt hasn’t been sold yet.”

Number 2: On A Daily Basis

The mare paddock was typically one of the calmest places on the farm. Now, however, Ashleigh wouldn’t characterize the pasture as calm. In July most of the foals were old enough to roam from their mothers and race each other across the thick Kentucky bluegrass. In no more than a month these foals would be weaned, making the entire breeding complex at Townsend Acres a screaming fit.

Ashleigh was leading Wonder back from the pasture for evening feed and the petite chestnut plodded along next to her, showing no hint of her excitable racehorse days. Next to her Samantha led the mare’s honey chestnut colt, temporarily named Wonder Boy until Ashleigh thought up something better, keeping one hand on the foal’s neck and the other firmly on the lead rope. Wonder swung her head periodically, checking to make sure her son was still by her side.

“I can’t believe it,” Samantha was saying as they entered the barn. “Remind me never to trust another man’s word again.”

Ashleigh chuckled, patting Wonder on the neck thoughtfully as they led mother and son into their open stall. “I’m sure Mr. Townsend doesn’t want to sell,” she said to Samantha. “He was so relieved back in the spring when his deals didn’t fall through.”

“I know,” Samantha sighed, hanging up the halters and lead ropes on the pegs outside the stall. “But what if this time things are different? I don’t want to be here if Wonder and her foals aren’t here.”

“Your dad works here,” Ashleigh reminded her, picking up Fleet Goddess’ halter and handing Samantha the smaller halter hanging next to it before they set off again for the mares.

“Still,” Samantha scowled. “I won’t want to have anything to do with the farm if there’s nothing worth while to work with. No way am I going to deal with Brad Townsend on a daily basis without Pride and Princess here.”

Ashleigh nodded, feeling the same way. They collected Fleet Goddess and her foal, a tiny dark bay filly they were calling Precocious after her inquisitive nature, and walked back up to the barn.

“There’s always the Keeneland sale this month,” Ashleigh said. “Maybe Brad has something up his sleeve.”

“Like selling every talented horse on the farm?” Samantha asked sarcastically.

“Maybe,” Ashleigh frowned, instantly thinking of Townsend Princess, Wonder’s yearling filly.

Ashleigh patted Fleet Goddess on the neck. The dark bay mare danced along next to her foal, still filled with youthful exuberance. The mare was only four years old, and had only been retired to the breeding shed after an unfortunate accident late in her two-year-old season.

After Wonder had retired, Charlie had purchased Goddess at the Keeneland September Sale, hoping to turn her into their next big name star. Fleet Goddess had been a star, if only for a short while, winning the Frizette Stakes before coming in second in the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Fillies. A small tendon injury pushed her into the breeding shed, where she was bred cheaply to Mike Reese’s stallion, Jazzman. Precocious was the result.

Slipping the mare and Precocious into their stall, Ashleigh paused for a moment as Samantha went to measure out the feed. Fleet Goddess nuzzled her filly for a moment before coming to the stall door and letting loose an announcing whinny. Wonder came to her stall door and let loose one in return.

Smiling bleakly, Ashleigh rubbed Fleet Goddess on her forehead and wondered what it must feel like to make all the decisions.

Number 3: Starting

There were two training barns set next to each other like twins. The closest to the training oval held all the regularly racing horses and the one a few yards away, closer to the paddocks, held the yearlings and underdeveloped two-year-olds. The second training barn was organized chaos at this time of year, when yearlings were being introduced to the fundamentals of being handled and ridden by humans.

Ashleigh stood in the aisle with Charlie in the morning after works, looking in on Townsend Princess. The coppery chestnut looked back at them with wary deep brown eyes, flaring her nostrils as though she knew what was going to happen next. The dismantled bridle in Ashleigh’s hands and the saddle in Charlie’s were enough to clue her in that her life was about to change drastically.

“Hey, baby doll,” Ashleigh crooned to the filly, taking the first steps up to the stall and slipping inside with the bridle. Charlie stayed on the other side of the stall guard, setting the saddle out of sight of the filly.

They had already tested the bridle and saddle on the filly the day before, with good results. Now they would go over the entire process again, only this time Charlie would lift Ashleigh onto the filly’s back and test how she would take a human’s weight.

Ashleigh slipped the bridle onto Princess’ head, meeting little resistance. Charlie was next with the saddle, and Princess sidled nervously then. Charlie made quick work of the girth, tightening it and stepping back as the filly let out a defensive kick with her hind legs, hooves meeting the wood sides of the stall.

“Better get up there quick,” Charlie told Ashleigh as soon as Princess settled down. The filly still looked like she was about to pop, and Ashleigh couldn’t help but have second thoughts about draping herself over Princess’ back.

“Come on,” Charlie prodded her, motioning to the filly. He held Princess as Ashleigh walked up to the filly’s side, Charlie giving her a boost into the saddle. Instead of swinging her leg over Princess’ back, Ashleigh simply pressed her stomach across the saddle.

There was a second where Princess coiled up, stunned by Ashleigh’s weight. Then the filly moved, skittering across the stall and banging Ashleigh’s legs hard on the wood wall.

Ashleigh let out a pained yelp at the contact, reaching up and clinging to the filly’s mane as Princess moved away from the wall and spun in a tight circle, forcing Charlie to go along with them. Finally Princess came to a stop in the stall, breathing heavily and pressing her ears back, trying to focus on what Ashleigh was doing on her back. Ashleigh took the opportunity to slip down, finding several strands of Princess’ copper mane wound around her fingers.

“Well,” she said breathlessly to Charlie. “That was some ride.”

“You did well, missy,” Charlie said simply. “She’ll be easier to work with tomorrow.” Princess looked at girl and trainer and let out a great breath as though in agreement.

They were busy untacking the filly when Hank strolled by, stopping to watch them with interest.

“You’re starting her up, then?” Hank asked, leaning against the stall doorway.

“Got to start her sometime,” Charlie replied.

“She did pretty well,” Ashleigh said, rubbing the place on her ankle that had gotten knocked against the wall. “Only minor injuries this time out.”

“Huh,” Hank grunted, nodding. “Well, I suppose it’s your time to waste.”

“What do you mean?” Ashleigh asked after a second of regarding Hank, stunned.

“Rumor has it that most of the farm’s yearlings are headed to Keeneland between this month and September. I heard Princess was scheduled to go,” Hank shrugged. “I thought you would have known.”

“Damn lot of rumors flying around,” Charlie said, letting himself out of the stall. Ashleigh followed along, hardly feeling so unconcerned.

Number 4: Nonsense

The bruise from her hectic turn around Princess’ stall left Ashleigh’s ankle a little swollen and tender, forcing her to limp as she walked. Through the course of the day, with dozens of stalls to muck out, tack to clean, aisles to sweep, and horses to groom as they came in from the pastures, Ashleigh found it increasingly painful to move.

The sun was sinking on the horizon, casting a mellow orange light over the entire farm and highlighting the coats of the horses as they grazed. Ashleigh was walking down the yearling paddocks, limping as she went. She was all dried sweat, dirt, and fatigue, but she carried it well and didn’t seem to mind. At the moment all Ashleigh could think about was what her mother was possibly putting together for dinner. She couldn’t wait to get home.

That was when she stopped in her tracks, her eyes catching on Brad further down the line of fences. He was leaning against the fence, his arms crossed over the top plank with his chin resting on his wrists. A beautifully marked bay colt grazed in front of him, occasionally lifting his head to nudge Brad’s elbow playfully before checking the man’s pockets for sweets. Brad didn’t move, letting the yearling colt go grazing on. The orange sun filtered over man and horse, making them shine metallic around the edges.

Ashleigh frowned at the sight of him and forced herself to walk forward. She had so many questions. Rumors were zipping through the farm like lightning, and Ashleigh wasn’t going to fall victim to them. She had the man responsible for most of what was going on in front of her, and she was going to get the truth no matter the sudden rapid beating of her heart.

“Hey,” she said, approaching him. Brad didn’t look at her.

“Griffen,” he greeted, still watching the bay colt.

“So what’s the deal?” she asked, and leaned her shoulder against the fence.

“What do you mean?” he returned, not moving.

“The buyer yesterday morning?” Ashleigh asked. “Stewart Hollowell? The yearlings? Everyone is saying that the farm is sending everything with a notable pedigree and talent to the auctions.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Brad said, evading her scathing glare.

“What does that mean?” Ashleigh asked. “I was told today that Townsend Princess is headed to auction, and I can only assume that Pride is up for sale again with you ferrying Hollowell around.”

“That is the case,” Brad nodded, still watching the big bay.

Ashleigh took a deep breath and tried not to blow up. She didn’t have the authority to blow up. “I thought your father had managed a deal to keep Wonder’s foals on the farm.”

Brad sighed and looked over at her, his face set in hard lines. “Are you ever going to stop whining about what happens to Wonder and her precious children?”

“That’s not fair,” Ashleigh shot at him. “You know Wonder is the only thing keeping me working here.”

“Not Charlie?” Brad asked. “I figured the old man would have retired permanently at this point.”

“Charlie has stayed on for Pride and Princess,” Ashleigh said heatedly.

“More incentive to sell them,” Brad replied sarcastically, smiling a little.

“You’d just love to run us off the farm, wouldn’t you?” Ashleigh said accusingly. “You’d sell Wonder and her foals just to get rid of me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Brad responded darkly. “Dealing with your tantrums is almost part of the job requirement to owning this place.”

“Please,” Ashleigh laughed shortly, irritated by how easy he was taking this argument.

“Look, Griffen,” he said, putting one hand against the fence and turning all the way to face her. “This farm runs on more than Wonder. It runs on money, which is starting to dwindle. Without a spectacular showing at the Keeneland sales this month and in September the farm is going to see a major change in the form of bankruptcy. My major motivation here is to make sure it never sees that.”

“It can’t possibly be that bad,” Ashleigh argued. “Things were tight a few months ago, but the farm got through it. Your father pulled it through without selling half the stock.”

“What is it that you think he does?” Brad asked her, implying something Ashleigh didn’t like. “And I’m not selling half the stock. If I can get things just right, the majority of the animals will stay on the farm. If what I’m sending to the July sale brings back enough to the farm I won’t even send the rest.”

“Where does Princess fall in this timeline, then?” Ashleigh asked, getting another sigh from Brad.

“Here we go again,” Brad rolled his eyes, going back to looking at the bay yearling.

“Would you stop it?” Ashleigh asked, flustered. “I think I have reason to be concerned, not that you would understand that. You aren’t exactly putting your main projects up for sale.”

“Are you kidding?” Brad asked her, suddenly looking at her with enough intensity to make Ashleigh flinch. “Do you see that horse?” he asked, pointing to the bay. “That’s Prince’s half-brother. He’s Three Foot’s yearling. He’s going to the July sale. Realize for one moment – just one – that hauling this farm out of a rut isn’t my perverse way of making sure you don’t get what you want. I’ve made my own sacrifices, Griffen.”

Before Ashleigh could argue back, as she knew Brad could never make such sacrifices, she heard yelling coming from the main training barn. Ashleigh turned, looking back. Brad’s attention was already on the barn, and he was pushing away from the fence and past Ashleigh before she registered that she should follow him.

When they got to the barn, Ashleigh blinked to adjust to the dim light. She could see Charlie sitting on the cement floor, his lower arms resting against his knees. Jilly was kneeling next to him, asking him something Ashleigh couldn’t hear as she pushed past Brad and raced up to them, limping a little due to her ankle.

“What happened?” Ashleigh asked, falling to her knees and putting a hand on Charlie’s arm.

“I don’t know,” Jilly told her. “We were talking about Princess and then he just sank to the floor. It could have been a heart attack, but I can’t be sure. I’ve already got an ambulance coming.”

“That’s nonsense,” Charlie said stubbornly, his breath coming in short rasps.

“It’s not nonsense,” Ashleigh said firmly, keeping her hand on Charlie’s arm and squeezing gently to get her point across. “If you’re hurt you’re going to the hospital. No questions asked.”

Charlie grumbled something else about rubbish and mollycoddling, but Ashleigh held her ground. They sat on the floor of the barn, Jilly and Brad standing silently close by, waiting out the long minutes for the ambulance.

Number 5: Pale Blue

Hospitals were always making empty attempts to sooth. There were courteous privacy curtains that scraped with a grating noise along metal rails, large rectangular windows letting in tinted light, and cool pale walls usually painted something neutral like buff or blue.

Ashleigh sat in the hospital room and silently abhorred these attempts. There was nothing soothing about them. In fact, she had decided some time ago that they were just openly mocking.

“Your arteries are in such a condition that your heart can not get enough oxygen, Mr. Burke. It’s essential to open up the blockage in order to prevent any further problems, which could be very serious…”

“I’m in no need of any surgery,” Charlie replied heatedly.

“Mr. Burke, you’re always free to consult a second opinion, however I guarantee you that the episode you suffered this afternoon is just a precursor if you don’t receive treatment.”

“There’s no reason in cracking me open to squeeze a few more years out of me,” Charlie argued. “If my time comes, then it will come.”

“Charlie,” Ashleigh winced, visibly bothered by that statement. “Listen to the doctor,” she said, standing up and entering the conversation, looking between the miffed older man and the younger surgeon that could be no older than thirty-five.

“Now don’t you go telling me what’s best,” Charlie told her.

“I will tell you what’s best,” Ashleigh said stubbornly. “I think I’m allowed that. If Dr. Anthony thinks you need surgery, then you need the surgery.”

“I don’t like the idea of it,” Charlie frowned, his resolve weakening in the face of Ashleigh’s insistence.

“But it’s for the best,” Ashleigh said, reaching down and taking his hand, feeling the thin skin and callused fingers. “You’ve got to stay healthy, Charlie.”

Sighing, Charlie leaned back on the bed and frowned. Ashleigh smiled.

Number 6: Blown

The next morning was overcast and dreary. Rain sprinkled lightly over Townsend Acres, making everything damp and dark. Luminous drops of water clung everywhere, hanging onto railings and the damp manes of horses before dripping to the ground. Ashleigh sat hunched over on Pride’s back, watching the starting gate as it was wheeled across the dirt track.

Brad stood next to the rail, letting the light rain fall on him as he traded a glare with Ashleigh. Stewart Hollowell stood further off under the protection of a somber black umbrella. As soon as the gate was put into place Ashleigh felt another surge of resistance flow through her.

“I’m not going to do it,” she spat. “This isn’t in Charlie’s plan for the day. Pride’s not ready for a breeze.”

“He looked ready yesterday,” Brad replied easily, hardly ruffled by Ashleigh’s protests.

“That is besides the point,” Ashleigh ground out through her teeth. “This breeze is not in Charlie’s plans. I’m not going to let you manipulate what he’s done while he’s out of work.”

“Ashleigh,” Brad replied, not bothering to argue or push her. He held her gaze easily and without concern, knowing she would do what he asked. She had no say in the matter. “I promised Stewart Hollowell a look at him breezing. The man is headed back to England on business this afternoon, so this is my only chance. Pride is ready to go. I wouldn’t want you to breeze him if I didn’t think he would go well.”

“Be that as it may,” Ashleigh replied, “I’m not going to blow Pride’s future training. Breezing him now isn’t what we’re supposed to do. I can’t just breeze him for your buyer if it will screw up all our other plans.”

“Just take the horse to the gate, Ashleigh,” Brad told her. “He’s warmed up, and Jilly is waiting on Nightingale to pace you.”

Ashleigh bristled, hating what she was going to do. She sent Brad a withering look that he didn’t seem to care about, and then spun Pride to the gate.

The track was fast – almost unaffected by the sprinkling rain. Pride would skip over it happily, and would try to go as swiftly as he could. Ashleigh frowned as they trotted over the dirt to the gate, giving Ken Maddock’s assistant a look that told him not to bother talking to her. The man picked up on the hint and went about business, loading Pride in next to Jilly and Nightingale.

“I don’t know what to do, Jilly,” Ashleigh muttered, weaving her fingers into Pride’s mane.

“Not much you can do,” Jilly replied with sympathy. “We’ve just got to ride. That’s all they pay us for.”

Ashleigh set her mouth in a frown, then breathed in quickly as the gates banged open. Pride started quickly next to Nightingale, digging his pale hooves into the dirt and catapulting himself forward with strong surges from his hindquarters. Ashleigh encouraged him halfheartedly, thoughts flashing through her head as she settled Pride on Nightingale’s outside shoulder.

The big chestnut blew down through the far turn, hauling against Ashleigh’s hold. It was subconscious, what Ashleigh was doing. She kept the reins tight, drawing Pride in as Nightingale took a length lead. Pride shoved the whole of his strength against Ashleigh, tugging the reins through her fingers. It was that action that stunned Ashleigh into letting go.

Pride bunched up and let loose, overtaking Nightingale in three leaps as they flew into the homestretch and raced for the finish.

Four furlongs flew by in a matter of seconds, and Nightingale was a distant memory when Pride flashed by the finish pole. It was a perfect performance, Ashleigh noted with some dismay. Pride didn’t know how to not be perfect.

Ashleigh stood in the stirrups, tugging back on Pride’s mouth. The colt lowered his head and worked out the last furlong, slowing down steadily before Ashleigh turned him and trotted back to the gap, where Brad was standing with Stewart Hollowell. Both men had their eyes on her, and Ashleigh didn’t bother to stop her emotions from showing.

Stewart Hollowell leaned forward under his umbrella and spoke to Brad about something. Brad nodded his head and reached forward to shake Mr. Hollowell’s hand, then the older man turned simply and walked up to the gravel lot and his waiting car.

Ashleigh pulled Pride up at the gap and jumped down, Jilly just behind her on Nightingale. Without missing a beat Ashleigh strode up to Brad, tugging a befuddled Pride along next to her.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Ashleigh asked, incensed. She didn’t ask what the time was for the four furlongs, and she didn’t have to ask if Stewart Hollowell was impressed. Ashleigh just wanted to know what on earth Brad was thinking.

Darkly, Brad observed her as she accused him of all the things this breeze could have done to affect Pride in the most negative of ways. Then, interrupting her, he stepped forward and invaded her space, making her step backward and jerk her head back to look him in the eyes.

“Understand me, Griffen,” Brad said softly, threatening her just under his voice. “You do not have any say over what happens with this colt. You never did. I, however, do. I have every right under the sun – every legal right – to do what I want with this colt. Right now, if I have to, I’m going to sell him. He’s very nearly sold until I say so. Do you understand that?”

Ashleigh stared at Brad, too stunned by his growling words to say anything in response.

“Because you will listen to me,” Brad told her, then stepped back.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Ashleigh said angrily after a moment, forcing the words. There was no way she would ever listen to Brad Townsend, nor bend to him. A part of her knew that he understood that, and liked telling her that he didn’t care.

Brad smiled then. “I’m the owner, Griffen. You’re the rider. That’s who we are.”

He turned around and started to walk away then, not giving her a second glance back until Ashleigh called after him that he wasn’t worthy of being the one who made decisions. He turned back then, only a few feet from her.

“You know, Griffen,” he said slowly, deliberately. “I’m sorry that the old man is in the hospital, that he has surgery to look forward to, and all of that. But if Charlie dies, at least you’ll be better off.

“How’s that, Brad?” Ashleigh asked, fighting to maintain composure now, and wondering how he had gotten so good at singeing all her nerves while she barely affected him.

“You won’t have any more delusions about your importance,” he said easily.

Then he walked away, and Ashleigh could feel the spike of tears in the corner of her eyes.

Number 7: Five Point Two

  
This was the last Keeneland July Selected Yearling Sale, and Ashleigh could feel the weight of the decision to end the most prestigious sale in the world in the people that had shown up to bid. As Ashleigh stood in the holding area, watching Three Foot’s beautiful bay yearling toss his head and wait his turn to enter the pavilion, she couldn’t help but ponder the title most prestigious in the world. It was like saying the Kentucky Derby was the greatest race in the history of horse racing when, in fact, it was no more special than the Epsom Derby or the Melbourne Cup.

Then again, eleven Kentucky Derby winners could hardly be argued with. This sale had seen so many then-future champions it was almost ridiculous. As Ashleigh stood staring at the brilliant white blaze on the bay yearling, as everyone else seemed to be doing, it seemed almost common knowledge that this baby was about to step over the footprints of Thunder Gulch, Alysheba, and Sunday Silence.

Then again, this sport was never about being definitive.

“What do you think?” Samantha asked.

“He’s generated a ton of hype,” Ashleigh said, watching the colt as he swished his perfectly combed tail over glowing red-brown hindquarters. He stood patiently with his handler, pricking his ears at the crowd of admirers that wanted to take a last look before he headed into the pavilion.

“You want to head inside?” Samantha asked as the colt was moved out of the holding area.

“Definitely,” Ashleigh nodded, turning with Samantha and pushing their way out of the dissipating crowd.

This yearling was the last Townsend Acres had to offer in the sale. Already the farm had already sent three yearlings to the pavilion that had sold for over a million dollars each, and those numbers added to all the others already meant that the farm was taking back a hefty sum of money.

As Ashleigh and Samantha pushed their way to their seats with Ian, the colt was already walking into the ring and the auctioneer was just beginning to rattle off about the colt.

“Number 1034 is an unnamed bay colt by AP Indy and out of Mischief Maiden. He is a half-brother to Preakness Stakes and Breeders’ Cup Classic Champion Townsend Prince. We will start the bidding at 100,000 dollars…”

Ashleigh let in a large breath, knowing that bids were going to come in rapid fire and in increments of large amounts. Samantha glanced over at Ashleigh with the same expression of awe on her face. Ian sat easily by, watching the proceedings with knowledgeable eyes that were not at all shocked or awed. The colt watched the crowd with an air of superiority and shook his mane, turning his head away.

The bids came in fast. People would nod, a bidspotter would call out, and the price on the electronic board above the horse would rise. It was at $500,000 when Ashleigh finally caught up with what was going on. It was at $750,000 when she started to understand the groups that were vying for the colt. It was at $1,500,000 when it became clear which of those groups were in a deadlock.

“This is amazing,” Samantha whispered to Ashleigh, who nodded. The deadlock was now between Coolmore and Godolphin. Neither was giving ground; both had the money and the willpower to keep going. The price jumped up to $2,000,000 and Godolphin matched and raised the price in a powerful move to $3,500,000.

“They just put down 1.5 million dollars,” Samantha said, shocked. Ashleigh wasn’t surprised. The colt snorted and danced around his impeccably dressed handler, striking a pose that drew in another group of bidders. Chaos ensued for a few brief moments and bids were thrown out and put down to other higher bids, upping the price of the colt to $4,200,000.

“He’s going to set the sale record at this point,” Ian muttered mostly to himself, although Ashleigh glanced over at him and agreed silently. The electronic board was flashing red numbers. The colt was growing anxious, reared once and swung his head in protest of having to stand for an audience. The price went up again, spiking to $4,700,000.

Then everything slowed as it went back to Godolphin and Coolmore, battling it out for the colt. Ashleigh scanned the audience as the price went up, climbing steadily to five million. When her eyes came to rest on the front row, she saw Brad leaning back in his chair, his hand resting against the side of his chin as he considered the colt and the seven figure number glowing in red on the wall. Ashleigh watched him as the price climbed to $5,200,000 and stuck. Brad didn’t seem the slightest affected, not even as the auctioneer proclaimed the yearling sold.

Three Foot’s yearling was led jubilantly from the pavilion to a round of hearty applause, and Ashleigh had forgotten who won the battle.

Number 8: An August Morning

The procedure seemed simple in theory. The surgeon had explained it to Ashleigh numerous times and each time he had made it seem so easy, like wisdom teeth removal or freezing off a wart. In reality, Ashleigh knew there were risks. There always were with these sorts of surgeries.

As Charlie was being prepped, just moments before he was to be wheeled out to the operating room, Ashleigh stood protectively nearby, hovering near his head as people walked in and out of the room to consult the charts, monitor the machines, and check on Charlie’s condition.

“I talked to Mr. Townsend today,” Ashleigh said, holding onto Charlie’s hand and trying to ignore the medical staff around her. “They took in nearly fifteen million dollars at the July sale, so they can’t find any need to sell Pride. Princess won’t even be going to the September sale. Mr. Townsend wants to keep them both on the farm.”

“Young Townsend like that idea?” Charlie asked, dealing with all the attention to him surprisingly better than Ashleigh had expected.

“He didn’t look disappointed, actually,” Ashleigh shook her head, shifting a little to move out of a nurse’s way.

“Miss, we’re going to have to move him to the operating room, now,” the nurse closest to her announced. “You’re free to wait outside during the surgery.”

“Alright,” Ashleigh said, her voice finally wavering uncertainly as she gripped Charlie’s hand in an attempt to reassure herself.

“I’ll be fine, missy,” Charlie told her. “Go on and wait with your folks. I’ll be out when they say.”

“I’ll be waiting for you outside,” Ashleigh said, feeling herself start to tremble a little. This was a ridiculous reaction and Ashleigh chided herself. It was a surgery that Charlie was strong for, so there wasn’t a reason to be nervous.

“I know,” Charlie responded, gracing her with a rare smile. “Now go on. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, Charlie,” Ashleigh said, letting his fingers slip from her hand as she stepped back and watched him be wheeled from the room. She stood in the empty room for a moment, taking a deep breath, then walked outside and down the corridor to the waiting area, where her parents and Samantha were sitting, each leafing through a magazine.

As she approached, Samantha looked up and asked, “He’s in surgery?”

“He just went in,” Ashleigh nodded, sitting down between her mother and Samantha. “I think he’s in good spirits, though.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” her mother said reassuringly, soothing Ashleigh almost immediately. “Just wait, Ashleigh.”

The wait was hours long. Ashleigh had devoured countless magazines, had visited the cafeteria with Samantha to bring back dinner and desserts, and had dozed off for some time she could not follow when her mother shook her awake. Blinking her eyes, she saw the figure of a man standing in front of her and immediately her eyes began to burn.

He wore blue scrubs, and his hands were clean. Ashleigh didn’t know his name. If she had met him before she had forgotten now.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at them. Ashleigh felt her fingers find her mother’s strong, warm hand. They clasped hands and squeezed. Samantha’s hand found Ashleigh’s arm and clung.

“Mr. Burke suffered a massive heart attack during the last stages of the procedure. Attempts to resuscitate him failed…”

Staring at the man, Ashleigh was not able to listen to the rest of the doctor’s well-rehearsed speech. This was a routine for him, and Ashleigh was no longer interested in hearing his forced sympathy. She could not have listened even to be polite. Instead she bowed her head and stared dumbly at the floor, feeling the tightness in her chest move up through her throat and out her mouth.

“Ash,” she heard someone say as she shook the sobs from her body. “Ashleigh.”

She closed her eyes, barely conscious enough to feel herself lifted up into steady, strong arms.

Number 9: One

The Griffen Farm was small, with two barns, a breeding shed, and paddocks that stretched out to the forested hills. In the morning the grass in the paddocks would be covered in dew, and that moisture would catch the sun’s morning light, turning everything into a glowing gold.

Ashleigh did not notice this. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, refusing to move and declining to speak. She huddled under the covers, curled up and warm, not crying but not feeling anything either. Everyone knew better than to disturb her.

Number 10: In A Single Day

Ashleigh stood outside the paddock Wonder shared with Three Foot, Fleet Goddess, and several other of the farm’s well-known broodmares. Each mare was grazing contentedly by the fence, ripping at the green shoots of grass as their foals inquisitively checked out their new paddock. The weanlings and their dams had been separated two days, held apart only by a fence in order to reduce the stress of weaning.

They were already beginning to wander away from each other, cutting their bonds by themselves. Only Fleet Goddess seemed to have a harder time of it than the others; whenever Precocious plaintively cried on the other side of the fence, Goddess would be there in an instant, stretching her nose through the wooden planks to her baby.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the dark mare and her inky black filly. Ashleigh felt her heart pounding as she stared at them, and she had to take a deep breath in attempts to slow it.

A slow, hot breeze picked up, ruffling Ashleigh’s hair. Self-consciously pushing her dark tresses back and smoothing her hands down her silk top and slacks, Ashleigh sucked in a shuddering breath and pushed away from the fence. She had business to attend to, and an appointment to meet.

When she got to Mr. Townsend’s office, the older man was waiting on her.

“Ashleigh,” he said softly, motioning her inside. “Please come in.”

She did as asked, shutting the door with an almost inaudible click behind her. Mr. Townsend stood up and slipped around the office, giving her a surprising hug. Haltingly she placed a hand on his elbow, not knowing exactly what to do.

“How are you?” Mr. Townsend asked, letting her go and offering her a chair to sit in. “I heard the will was read this afternoon.”

“It was,” Ashleigh nodded, lowing herself into the chair. “I’m as good as I can be, I think.”

“I heard the conditions Charlie set,” Mr. Townsend said, walking back to his desk and sitting in the large leather chair behind it. “I can’t say I’m shocked, to be honest. You were the only family Charlie professed to having.”

“I,” Ashleigh started, stopping suddenly and wondering what she should say. It was all too soon, but arrangements had to be made. Her parents were already taking care of the funeral, the lawyers had already read the will, and Ashleigh’s job was to take care of Goddess and Precocious. Charlie’s horses – her horses now.

“I thought maybe we could square away Goddess and her filly,” Ashleigh said.

“Sure,” Mr. Townsend nodded. “I can switch the bills over to your name. You’ll just have to sign a little paperwork and I can have my secretary draw that up.”

“Well, actually,” Ashleigh shook her head. “I thought I might move them to my parents’ farm. I know Charlie left me his savings, but I’d like to save what I can.”

“Charlie left you everything, Ashleigh,” Mr. Townsend frowned. “I think that would cover boarding costs for Goddess and her filly.”

“I know,” Ashleigh said, catching a little, feeling unprepared. “But, that money is only for my education and Goddess, and without Charlie here I won’t be doing what I have been with Wonder’s foals. I’d just rather…”

“Ashleigh,” Mr. Townsend interrupted, followed by a sudden silence. Ashleigh stopped talking and nervously clutched her hands together and looked down at the arm of the chair as Mr. Townsend studied her.

“I hadn’t considered what you would be doing with Charlie gone,” Mr. Townsend said. “It completely slipped my mind. Obviously you could continue your work here as a groom and exercise rider.”

“I don’t think I can do just that, sir. I’m not ungrateful, but…”

“No, no,” Mr. Townsend cut in, shaking his head. “You’ve been more than helpful for Townsend Acres. Your parents were wonderful employees here when we had them, and your work with Charlie hasn’t gone ignored. I’ve seen what you both accomplished together. However, I’d like to have you say.”

“I don’t see how it’s possible, sir,” Ashleigh replied, feeling tears itch at the corners of her eyes at the repeated mentions of Charlie. This was all too soon. All this business that couldn’t wait was completely too soon for her.

“I can offer you a job as an assistant trainer,” Mr. Townsend suddenly said, shocking Ashleigh.

“What?”

“You would work with Maddock and my son,” Mr. Townsend went on as if he hadn’t heard her question. “I’m placing Pride and Princess with Maddock, that way you can continue Charlie’s work.”

“I don’t know,” Ashleigh shook her head.

“The pay is good, Ashleigh,” Mr. Townsend continued softly. “You can have a room at the employee apartment, and you’ll have a discount on board and feed for Goddess and Precocious. You’d get a step up into the business. It would be a great benefit for you.”

They were quiet for a moment as Ashleigh considered this. There were too many things to think about. Just this morning she had become a millionaire and the owner of two beautiful Thoroughbreds. Ashleigh was no longer the kid that tagged along the heels of others; she was an adult with responsibilities that went so far past any she had ever known. Now she was being offered a professional job, with benefits that Ashleigh didn’t even know to ask about. It had happened all in one day.

The worst part was that Ashleigh didn’t want any of it. She didn’t want this job, or the money, or even the horses. But then she could hear Charlie in the back of her head snorting at her sentimental choices, and she doubled back.

“Okay,” Ashleigh said, her voice no where near sure. “I’ll accept.”

“Good,” Mr. Townsend replied happily, looking pleased. “I’ll have the paperwork later today. Just come on by and sign.”

Ashleigh nodded and thanked him, then slipped soundlessly out of the office feeling like a completely different person.

Number 11: Compromised

“Whoa,” Ashleigh called the next day, clutching to Pride’s amber mane as the colt reared. She jolted in the saddle when the colt suddenly fell back to all fours, dancing across the track to the outside rail and tossing his head. Ashleigh didn’t blame Pride for feeling good and playful, but her stomach was tied up in knots from nerves and having Maddock and Brad watching her curiously wasn’t helping.

“Let’s go, boy,” Ashleigh said, straightening the colt out and heading him back toward the inner rail for his gallop. “It’s about time for work.”

Pride flicked his ears back at her words and dug into the dirt happily, picking up the pace when Ashleigh gave him the cue. The big chestnut hadn’t been given a gallop since Brad’s insisted-upon breeze, and Ashleigh could feel the colt releasing the tension he had accumulated since then in every step. Pride pushed his head into the bridle and tested Ashleigh’s strength, galloping collectedly on the verge of flying much faster.

Ashleigh kept the colt in check, wishing that Maddock had approved her idea of having Samantha along with Dominator. Pride had always worked well with Dominator, but Maddock had his own ideas, leaving Ashleigh alone with Pride this morning.

As they passed the gap, Ashleigh’s eyes flitted quickly over the two men watching her. For an instant she had almost expected to see Charlie with his old felt hat hiding his eyes, and was disappointed with the reality. That was when Pride got the upper hand, taking advantage of Ashleigh’s wandering mind, and bolted.

In a split second, Ashleigh was on the ground and Pride had taken off down the track, gleefully kicking and bucking. For a few moments Ashleigh laid in the dirt, wondering what she was doing. This was too soon, and Pride had just given her the wake up call she needed. There was no way she could do this now, not when Charlie had only been dead for three days.

Closing her eyes, Ashleigh rolled over and pushed herself to her knees when she heard the quick footfalls of Maddock and Brad. Tugging off her helmet, Ashleigh brushed the dirt off of it in an attempt to distract herself from crying. She didn’t hurt, but the pain in her chest was more than enough to make her sob.

“Ashleigh,” Maddock said, stopping in front of her and kneeling to look at her. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Ashleigh said, stifling the need to sniff and dry the tears she knew were forming in the corners of her eyes. “Pride is just a little worked up. I didn’t expect that from him. He’s usually more behaved.”

“Look,” Maddock replied, looking at her with such sympathy it made Ashleigh’s chest tighten even more. “You don’t need to be doing this right now. I’ll understand if you want to take a few days, at least until after the memorial service.”

“But this is my job,” Ashleigh argued halfheartedly, not putting her usual insistence behind the words.

“And it can wait,” Maddock told her.

“Damned straight,” Brad muttered just loud enough to be heard. Then: “I don’t want the horses to suffer because you’re out of your mind.”

Ashleigh glared up at Brad, then shoved herself to her feet. “Screw you, Townsend,” she muttered, turning on her heel and walking back to the gap alone.

Number 12: Infuriated

Wonder’s stall was cool, spacious, and dry. The bedding scratched and clung against Ashleigh’s jeans as she sat against the wall, covering her eyes with her hand as she cried. Wonder watched her curiously from the middle of the stall, stretching out her beautiful neck in inquiry. When her muzzle touched salty tears, Wonder pricked her ears and licked Ashleigh’s cheek with interest.

As much as she didn’t think she could, Ashleigh had to laugh a little and wrap an arm around the mare’s head, slipping her fingers into Wonder’s orange mane. The mare nuzzled Ashleigh’s dark hair, as though she were transferring her motherly love from her weaned son to the girl she’d known her entire life.

Ashleigh let out a shaking sigh, and silently thanked her horse, whom would never truly be hers.

“Thought I’d find you here,” a voice announced from the open stall door. Wonder swung her head away and turned her interest to the new visitor, walking over to the stall door. Ashleigh dried her eyes quickly with her hands and looked up at the unsmiling face of Brad Townsend.

“Yeah, I guess I’m predictable like that,” Ashleigh sighed, still sitting where she was and looking at her booted feet nestled in Wonder’s bedding.

“Look, Griffen,” Brad sighed. “Maddock says take the week off. He doesn’t want you pushing yourself into the job when you’re not ready, and I sure as hell don’t want you gallivanting off half cocked on a horse.”

“I can’t do that,” Ashleigh shook her head, swallowing hard to end the start of a new sob. “I’m not going to do that. Charlie’s funeral is tomorrow, so I’ll be fine to work this week.”

“It’s not about the funeral,” Brad replied. “It’s about your state of mind. You shouldn’t be on the track right now.”

“I’m fine to ride,” Ashleigh argued, finally looking up at him through teary eyes. “I can help train Pride and Princess and whoever else Maddock wants me to train. I can do this.”

“Not this week, you’re not,” Brad said.

“I have to help with them,” Ashleigh insisted.

“Listen to yourself, Griffen,” Brad laughed, although he was far from amused. “One week out of your care won’t ruin them.”

“How am I to know that?” Ashleigh asked. “It’s only been a few days out of Charlie’s care and the plans for Pride and Princess are totally different. You’d run Pride into the ground before he even gets to his three-year-old campaign.”

At that Brad laughed, looking down at his arms that rested on the stall door. “Do you honestly think you being here is going to change the plans Maddock and I have drawn up for Pride? For Princess?”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t fight for Charlie’s original plans,” Ashleigh said determinedly.

“Let’s just get this straight,” Brad said, looking down at her. “Your status as an assistant for us doesn’t mean much. Your new horses and situation, thanks to the old man, doesn’t mean much. Not to the farm, or me. Don’t think this job means more importance.”

“I’ll still have my say,” Ashleigh replied, pressing her hands against the wall behind her and pushing herself up.

“Little good that does you,” Brad said easily, still leaning casually.

“I don’t know what your problem is,” Ashleigh replied through gritted teeth. “I’m paying board and feed for Goddess and her foal. Considering I was going to move both, and that the cost of boarding them both here just happens to take up most of the paycheck I’ll be receiving from your father, I’m guessing that my money is now one of those things helping Townsend Acres keep afloat.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Brad answered her. “If you’re going to justify your staying here like that you might as well breed Goddess to the Prince. Hell, I’d even let you. But then, where would you be? You’ve dug a beautiful hole, Griffen.”

“Are you saying I should just leave?” Ashleigh replied heatedly, hating how he was so on the mark.

“I’m saying you will leave until you think you can do your job,” Brad said. “If you don’t, I can always force you.”

Trembling, Ashleigh stared across the stall door at Brad. Wonder calmly pushed her head across the door, nudging at Brad once more to search for any treats that might have miraculously appeared in his pockets since he had first appeared empty-handed. Both ignored the mare, and Wonder left them to their staring match.

It ended when Ashleigh opened the door and pushed past Brad. He backed off from the stall, watching her coolly as she shoved by him and walked out of the barn into the harsh summer light.

Number 13: Words

It had been a morning service, done quietly next to the main broodmare paddock while the light was still golden and the temperature was still cool. There was a light breeze that lifted Ashleigh’s hair and Wonder’s mane as the mare stood in tack for the first time in months, waiting for Ashleigh to boost into the saddle.

The crowd that solemnly looked on was small. One could characterize it as intimate except the people in attendance were not the best of friends. After this everyone would scatter in different directions, not speaking to anyone else.

Samantha and her father stood close by, Mr. Townsend and his wife were next to the fence, Ashleigh’s parents and Rory clustered together close to Ashleigh. Hank and a few of the grooms watched from a slight distance. Jilly and Craig were holding hands. Brad had been late, but stood a few paces from Ashleigh with Melinda Westwood, whom appeared almost ridiculously overdressed in a summer dress that billowed in the breeze.

Wonder fidgeted, suddenly anxious with the saddle on her back. She pawed her unshod hooves at the grass, lowering her head and arching her neck like she knew she had somewhere to be. Ashleigh held the reins tightly, trying to calm the mare and mount up. Wonder wouldn’t have it, and dodged to the side, giving Ashleigh a startled look out of her brown eyes.

“Whoa,” Ashleigh said softly, silently wishing the mare would settle. Wonder whinnied and danced on her slender legs, acting like she was two again and about to be asked to do something she’d rather not do. Ashleigh stood her square again and moved to mount, but again Wonder dodged away, right into Brad’s hand.

Ashleigh looked up, a little shocked to see that he of all people had stepped in. Brad wordlessly took the mare’s reins and put a hand firmly on her neck, keeping Wonder stationary. With shaking fingers, Ashleigh mounted up and lowered herself into the saddle. It seemed all to slow as she mounted up, watching Brad as he considered her. Ashleigh slipped her other foot in the stirrup and gripped the reins, nodding when she was ready.

With that he patted Wonder’s neck and let go. Ashleigh took the urn Samantha handed up to her and cradled it against her chest as she turned the mare toward the gate. Then Wonder was off, walking with a little bounce to her step into the paddock. Ashleigh touched the mare lightly with her heels and Wonder shifted into a canter, rocking up the grassy incline. As they passed over the first large hill, Ashleigh let the urn tip and the ashes drifted out into the air, slipping off of Wonder’s sleek chestnut legs, and settled on the dewy bluegrass.

Wonder cantered softly, blowing misty breaths as she passed through the golden morning light. She moved through the early fog and shifted between the beams of light as they passed underneath the few lonely trees.

Ashleigh scattered the last of the ashes and stopped Wonder under one of those trees. The mare halted and shook her mane, relaxed again as they both stared at the expanse of the pasture. Part of Ashleigh wanted to ride Wonder off through that pasture until she was ready to come back. Leaning forward, Ashleigh tucked the empty urn against her chest and rested her cheek against Wonder’s mane, wrapping an arm around the mare’s neck.

Shifting casually with Ashleigh, Wonder tipped her ears back and listened to the girl on her back cry. Breathing heavily against Wonder’s mane, Ashleigh slowly took control of her tears. For several moments she rested against Wonder, staring at the trees and the hills from her vantage point on the mare’s back. An era had ended, which meant that a new one had just begun.

Then she straightened and looked back at the fence that ran some distance away. Ashleigh could see the people watching from the fence, all waiting for her to come back to them. She would have to go back. Ashleigh could practically feel Charlie pushing her insistently, telling her that she couldn’t stay with him forever. It was a new time, and it was hers.

Wonder pricked her ears at something far off in the distance and whinnied, spurring Ashleigh into action. Together they made their way back down the hill and back to the fence, with Wonder dancing and snorting happily the entire way.

Number 14: Light

Saratoga was a mecca for Thoroughbred horse racing. It was one of the old tracks, where dress codes still applied and where it wasn’t considered odd to camp out under the trees with the entire family to enjoy a picnic lunch.

It was also a pinnacle of wealth, where owners and in the money players would pay $11.25 for Cozy Shrimp and $23.95 for Seared Nantucket Scallops at the Equestris Restaurant while watching their horses win brilliantly or place out of the money.

Since arriving at Saratoga with the Townsend Acres’ string, Ashleigh had stayed behind the scenes, leaving the Equestris to Brad and Maddock as she spent her time babying Pride. Even now, as she watched Pride walk next to Hank around the shaded saddling paddock, she stood off to the side and watched the colt as Maddock spoke with reporters and Brad mingled with Melinda through the small crowd of owners.

Ashleigh breathed contentedly, enjoying the shade and the horses. She also enjoyed the relative success she felt trickle down around her with Townsend Acres’ victory in the Spinaway the day before, as Three Foot’s two-year-old filly – Maiden Voyage – won by a nose.

As Pride arched his neck and strutted along the walkway for the bettors, Ashleigh stood with Jilly and discussed the strategy, getting comments and agreements from Maddock. The plan was to maneuver Pride into third or fourth and let him take over in the stretch, where he was expected to spend all the energy he had collected since his first and last race in June.

“He might be a little too fresh,” Maddock commented as Pride decided then to rear and strike out at the air playfully, bounding around Hank as soon as he came to all fours.

“Try to rate him,” Ashleigh added to her instructions to Jilly, laughing a little as the colt was finally led up to their group. Pride looked good and obviously felt good, and Ashleigh had to feel satisfaction in that. She had helped get him to this race, and she had discussed for hours with Maddock and Brad if he was even ready to race against this sort of competition.

Pride wasn’t the favorite by any means. The Sanford Stakes winner, Empire Statement, was the favorite at 5-2, and Pride was by far the longshot at 15-1. It was supposed to be a blow out, but Ashleigh had a suspicion that Pride wasn’t going to let it get to that. He might be the most lightly raced, most inexperienced colt in the field, but Ashleigh knew he’d be a force to be reckoned with. She would know; she trained him.

As soon as the paddock judge announced for jockeys to mount, Maddock gave Jilly a leg up into the saddle and Pride was off. Hank led the coppery chestnut colt to the track, Jilly sitting easily in the saddle, and Ashleigh walked off with Maddock to the clubhouse.

There were four reserved spaces in the clubhouse that they had to rid of occupants that shouldn’t have been there. Saratoga was crowded, and that meant that open seats were fair game no matter which were reserved. Before the horses approached the gate, Ashleigh managed to scoot several people out of their space and claim the Townsend Acres area as Pride slipped into the gate.

No one bothered to sit or settle. Everyone hoped this vantagepoint would be abandoned within a moment. Ashleigh leaned forward against the rail, straining to find an unobstructed view of the backside, where the gate was set up for the seven furlong Hopeful. Brad and Maddock simply looked over the heads of those in front of them, while Melinda had found someone she knew close by and was excitedly waving in their direction.

As soon as the last horse loaded, Ashleigh resorted to standing up on a chair to see. As soon as she turned around to face the track, the gates banged open and the horses poured out onto the track. Then one of her slick soled dress shoes slipped on the metal chair and Ashleigh found herself gripping onto Brad’s shoulder to stay on the chair.

Brad reached up and put a hand on her hip, steadying her so she could stop gripping helplessly onto his suit. Ashleigh quickly righted herself and pulled her hand away.

“Griffen, you’re going to break your neck,” Brad said casually, keeping his hand where it was as though he was afraid she might start to excitedly jump up and down to cheer on Pride in the stretch and fall off the chair.

“I’m fine, Townsend,” Ashleigh said, swatting at his hand that he kept firmly against her hip. He smiled wryly, watching the track and ignoring her. Ashleigh sighed and gave up, turning her attention to the horses.

Pride was racing easily down the backstretch, stalking in third. Ashleigh didn’t notice the other horses, or the favorite that was looming in fifth as the field thundered around the far turn. Her only focal point was Pride’s surging chestnut body as he made his move at the top of the stretch, the favorite right on his heels.

Ashleigh tensed up, calling out for Pride to start moving. The favorite, Empire Statement, was inching up on the outside, giving Pride a run for his money. Just then Jilly tugged the crop loose and swung it by Pride’s eye, causing the big chestnut to hurtle forward, pulling clear by a length as the two horses drove by the wire.

“Yes!” Ashleigh shouted, throwing her arms up with everyone else in their group. Then she slipped and nearly fell again, Brad’s hand being the only thing that steadied her.

“Okay, Griffen,” he said over the thundering crowd, turning his gaze from the horses to her. “Off the chair.”

“With pleasure,” Ashleigh laughed brightly, jumping down and heading to the winner’s circle, accepting congratulations and smiling for the ESPN cameras. Brad and Maddock were pulled aside in the winner’s circle to discuss the possibilities for the colt, while Ashleigh simply grinned at Jilly as soon as Pride was led off the track toward her.

“Congratulations!” Jilly called down to her, leaning forward and giving Ashleigh a quick, one armed hug before the photos.

“You took the word right from my mouth,” Ashleigh said, confused. “What are you congratulating me for?”

“You got Pride here,” Jilly reminded her. “You and Charlie. You should be proud, Ash.”

Smiling wistfully, Ashleigh put a hand on Pride’s damp neck and looked the colt in the eye. Pride snorted and eased himself in the spot Hank was pushing him toward for the photo. People were gathering all around them – Clay and Katherine Townsend, looking fresh and clean after spending most of the afternoon in their luxury box, Brad and Melinda, Maddock, and Hank standing by Pride’s hindquarters.

Everyone was talking boisterously, gathering more friends into the photo that stood nearby. Ashleigh stopped to consider this scene as she held Pride’s head close to her cheek. Everyone was smiling at their success, which she had helped contribute to. The Townsends were laughing and clearly enjoying this, Melinda was lacing her arm around Brad’s, and Brad was looking over at Ashleigh, reminding her to smile.

“I’m not going to forget to smile,” Ashleigh replied, already feeling herself start to grin involuntarily.

“Glad to hear it, Griffen,” he answered in a relaxed manner.

The photographer placed the flash into the camera and directed people to move a little closer together. There was a moment that Ashleigh’s chest tightened, wondering if Charlie would have been proud of this moment. As she looked at Pride curiously pricking his ears at the camera and the group of grinning, happy faces, she knew that he would have been. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but he would have been.

“Okay, folks,” the photographer called, raising up his arm to get everyone’s attention. Jilly placed her hand on the colt’s neck for the photo, and Ashleigh looked up with suddenly moist eyes and smiled as the camera snapped with a loud burst of light.


End file.
